Page 51 of Rosabel and the Billionaire Beast

I’d never been so nervous meeting anyone. In fact, I hadn’t felt this awkward and unwanted since being picked last for dodgeball in junior high. I’d thought I was done with those terrible juvenile experiences, but apparently not.

An urge to break for my shoes and ditch out the door flooded me, but I also reeled with understanding in a way I never have before.

No wonder Duncan was the way he was. If his family was this personable? Holy wow.

Not only that, but I had to make sure he’d keep his word and not attempt the whole fake girlfriend ploy. It would be so like him to wuss out and try and save face with these people.

Returning to my side, Duncan spoke. “No, no. We’re not married. Rosabel is my assistant.”

My relief was palpable. He’d kept his word. He hadn’t fed me to the wolves like I’d expected.

I stared at him in a new light as he went on.

“I have an investment I’d like to look into while we’re here. She came along to help me handle that end of things.”

“I see.” Mrs. Hawthorne brightened up way too fast. Similarly, Grandma’s head lifted, and she responded to her daughter-in-law’s sudden relief with a smile of her own.

Someone was glad to see her son was still on the market.

You and me both, sister.

Mrs. Hawthorne smiled at me. She was a beautiful woman—she’d be even prettier if the smile were genuine.

“In that case, welcome, Miss Astor. How long have you worked for our Duncan here?”

TheirDuncan?

Could have fooled me.

Duncan and I were still standing. We hadn’t yet been invited to sit. His hands flexed at his sides, and he peered down at me with his lips pressed together in muted apology. Or a silent plea.

I wondered if he worried about what I might say just as much as I had worried over his words.

Was this some kind of formal interview we had to pass before our backsides were allowed to grace the furniture? Part of me didn’t want to grace these people with an answer. Part of me wanted to be just as rude to them as they were to me.

But I could just hear my mom now, telling me to be the better person.

I opened my mouth to answer her question when Mrs. Hawthorne interrupted. She pointed a finger at Grandma Hawthorne as if a thought struck.

“You know, we still haven’t ordered the flowers we need for my birthday party. Perhaps that is something your assistant can take care of for us.”

Both Mommy Dearest and Grandma From the Depths of Despair sneered at me.

“I’m sure she’d be happy to,” Duncan said, answering before I got the chance to.

My momentary relief puked. How many times had he done this to me? Yet again, he offered my help without asking me.

The most recent instance had been a few months ago when I’d been volunteered to help Maddox vet the auditions of actors wanting to work in his theme park—and then again for his Paris honeymoon with his model.

Admittedly, things between the Hatters had been magical. Their wedding had been something from a dream. All those flowers and her exquisite dress? The whole thing had been so immaculate.

I was kind of a sucker for the new Wonderland Instagram page, too, if I was being honest here. Whoever handled the marketing, they captured the most adorable pictures of Adelie and Maddox in costume, kissing, swooning, flirting with one another as both the Hatter and Alice and their real-life romance.

“What do you think?” Duncan asked, breaking into my thoughts. “Is that something you think you could do?”

I met his dark eyes and narrowed mine. Sure, I was bugged, but maybe helping with the flowers wouldn’t be so bad. This was a chance to prove my assistant status and how not-dating I was with Duncan.

“Sure,” I said, turning to Mrs. Hawthorne. “I’d be happy to. Just let me know which flowers and how many.”

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